Stages in Snapshots
by Yoru Hana1
Summary: Primus has been a patient god, really he has, but it's become obvious an intervention is in order. Slash, common and rare pairs, extremely vague reference to likely past mpreg (two mech with offspring, no comment how they got them). TFA.
1. Prologue

Happy New Years everyone. Sorry this is not another part of Please, won't you be my neighbor, but I hope it will appease you a bit. I wrote this snippet fic when I was having a block on Neighbor and I'll be posting the 8 parts up over the next few days, once a day. Afterward I'll have it up at Deviant art, AFF and y-gallery.

Title: Stages in Snapshots - Prologue

Summery: Primus has been a patient god, really he has, but it's become obvious an intervention is in order.

Series: Transformers Animated  
Pairing: various  
Rating: T over all  
Words: 469  
Chapter includes: No warning  
Disclaimer: Only the demented plot, what there is, is mine

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Primus had been patient though his children's squabbles. The war had been going on for so long. By now there was no right side, if there had ever been at all. Even when his son, the Allspark, was sent from his surface his thoughts revolved around the pain they were feeling and his hopes they would make peace.

When the Decepticons pulled back after the Allspark's launch he'd thought they might come to an accord, let _all_ his children come home, but it was not to be. Though no longer centered directly on claiming his surface they still fought and battled in the reaches of space.

He'd known when the Prime and his crew found the Allspark, and when they and the Decepticon leader were pulled through the unstable spacebridge. Even if he'd known the Allspark was out there still, Primus had hoped the disappearance of both his son and Megatron would eventually create a tentative ceasefire that could be built on. That when the Prime and his crew were eventually found and returned with the Allspark and Megatron revived from stasis there would be a framework in place.

His hopes had been for naught and the fighting continued, bringing yet another people, these organic 'humans' his son had said, into their war. His son shattered, but slowly being rebuilt; unable to keep his power from causing trouble. And his new granddaughter too. A bright little femme, if a bit impulsive. Still the young often are. She'd been pulled into a war she was centivorns too young to begin to understand.

The energon continued to be shed with no sign there was going to be a stop.

When Shockwave attacked his Magnus, damaging him to the edge of life and stealing the Magnus Hammer, that was it. Enough was enough. If his children were going to squabble like sparklings over the last rust stick he was going to end this war, his way.

While the medics rushed Ultra Magnus to the medbay Primus sent out a message to each of his creations as he started gathering his power. His choice would directly effect only a few hundred bots on each side of the conflict, but would have an impact on all. He wanted no quibbling about his servo in it and what it meant.

"My children. This has gone on long enough. If the differences between you are too much for you to overcome on your own, I will help you to finish this. Make the most of this, and I wish you happiness."

Each Cybertronian froze in what they were doing upon hearing their god's voice. The intent was crystal, but what he'd meant by his words would not be so clear until his chosen bots fell into recharge for the night, and awoke to their lives changed.


	2. Shock

Words: 539  
Chapter includes: No warning other the the occasional swear  
Disclaimer: Only the demented plot, what there is, is mine

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_(*)_Shock_(*)_

Picking yet another bug out from under his plating Kup reflected on how he'd gotten here, picking listening devices out from his chassis. That sol, what seemed like so long ago, after Primus' pronouncement he'd had trouble falling into recharge. However, even with that he'd have normally been out of his berth quickly upon waking, except it had felt like his spark was enfolded in warmth and he hadn't wanted to move.

"Why are you removing them! I only wanted to make sure you're being kept safe!"

The sudden sound of trined voices made him jump, nearly crushing the bit of equipment and jolting him from his thoughts. Turning he scowled at the three behind him.

"I don' need ya stickin' this scrap on meh. Ya're mah sparkmates, if there's somethin' wrong ya'd know."

Hadn't that been a kick to the dente. Finally coming out of recharge to the realization the warmth was the feel of another bots spark connected to his own. His first thought had been he'd been stupid beyond belief and sparkbonded while overcharged. Except he didn't remember _being _overcharged. He'd put his servo to his face to rub his forehelm and stopped before his hand touched.

Painted around one of his digits was a paintbond ring in softly glowing Primus blue. It completely encircled his finger except for a space on top where a designation glowed in the same shade, and as he'd read it, he knew. He'd known the bot's designation, what he looked like and, most importantly, that this bot was now his Primus chosen bondmate.

"But if I use the sparkbond to listen we'll hear your thoughts, and we know how you are about your privacy." The three bots surrounded him, nuzzling his helm. Kup blinked at them for a klick before hiding his surprise back behind his scowl. Even with them within his very spark they still managed to surprise him.

"At least _tell _meh ya're gonna do it! I had a speech ta make ta the incomin' recruits today and yar fraggin' bugs made the mic fritz. Had ta use the damn thing like a geiger counter ta search out the slaggin' things while the audience watched till I could make the speech. Then I found out I missed some when I was talkin' ta the cadets and shook one of their servos, and he got zapped by one he crushed!"

Kup wasn't going to mention the one crushed wasn't near his servo, but on his aft. It was the principle of the thing. Better to discourage his lover where he could, rather than have another incident like when he tried to enter the high security section of the base and set off several security alarms.

"Then he should have kept his servos to himself." The glint in Reflector's optics made it clear he knew just how the bug was crushed.

The truckbot sighed, letting himself be pulled to the berthroom. Ignoring the servos he _knew_ were placing new bugs on him he looked fondly at his mate. Reflector was certainly not the bot he'd have chosen for himself if he'd have been given the choice back then, but the glitch was his now and he was keeping him.


	3. Denial

I'm never really sure what to put in the before story notes, so most of these are going to be short or, like last chapter, nonexistent. Suffice it to say, this is not the strangest pairing you're going to see here. Though I personally found a lovely irony in it. ^ - ^

Words: 658  
Chapter includes: No real warnings, lots of narcissism  
Disclaimer: Only the demented plot, what there is, is mine

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_(*)_Denial_(*)_

It was one of the sols Knockout was trying to convince himself it was not true. He was recharging somewhere and when he awoke he would be alone in his berth, bots to repair (or demolish as he willed) waiting for him and no bondmate who'd just dumped several cans of paint on him in a kaleidoscope of clashing colors.

Glaring at Bulkhead he clenched his dente and fists.

"Oops, sorry 'bout that Knockout. My bad." The mech really did look apologetic, but still! His paint! Turning on his heel he started for the washrack in the hopes of getting it off before it dried. Luckily his mate preferred slower drying paints so he had time to blend the colors.

When he'd awoken to discover what Primus had done to him the first thing he'd tried to do was repaint his servo. He could deal with the sparkbond, but really! The only saving grace was that when he transformed his servo wasn't visible so it didn't ruin the look of his alt.

Meeting his bondmate in person was another can of bolts. The mech had run up to greet him, tripped over his peds and _landed on him_. He'd insisted on a complete stripping down, repaint and buffing after that; his mate apologizing while he ignored him the whole time.

Stepping through into the washrack he continued doing just that, ignoring his mate while turning on the solvents. He only acknowledged the mech when he picked up a sponge in his pincher and started cleaning the plating along his back struts. Humming in pleasure Knockout let his mate pamper him.

At least one good thing came out of this. As one of the more petite Decepticons, combined with his liking for larger partners, Knockout formerly had a hard time finding partners that didn't try to dominate him.

He didn't think Bulkhead could dominate him without direction if he tried.

Leaving the solvents he stood under the vents letting the warm air and the towel in his mates servos dry him.

Finally properly looking at Bulkhead, Knockout watched him tap his pincers together. He knew the mech wasn't as stupid as he seemed most of the time. You just had to wait for him to spit out what he was thinking.

"I kinda wanted to show you something. I worked really hard on it and... well, I just completed it."

Letting his mech shift on his peds for a klick Knockout waved his servo and nodded. "Very well, let's get this over with. I have a shift in a couple of joor and I have to get ready." It wouldn't due to show up looking less then perfect.

Following after the green mech he examined his finish, absently noting he'd need to wax before he left the building. Sensors giving warning he stopped as his mate did before he could run into him, then stepped up to his side.

Still looking nervous Bulkhead triggered open the door to his studio and then went over to an easel set off to the side where it would get good air circulation.

"Well, here it is."

Knockout studied the painting. Bulkhead was no Sunstreaker, but it was actually a very good painting. It was obvious how much work and care had gone into each stroke. It's wasn't incredible, but still it...

"You painted me."

From the silence Knockout could tell Bulkhead wasn't even venting. Turning from the painting of himself lost in thought over a datapad, end of the stylus caught in his lips, to his lover he made a decision.

"Come along." Leaving the studio he led Bulkhead to their berthroom.

Some sols, the only thing keeping Bulkhead alive is that if he killed him Knockout would die too. Sometimes it wasn't as bad as all that. It helped that he _does_ love the annoyance and terror to his paint.

Not that he's going to be saying that to anyone.

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Please review!


	4. Pain

I know several people wanted to see Starscream's pairing, and I told you you would not have to wait long. ^ - ^ Here it is, though no one guessed who he would be with. On a side note, I actually counted how many of these sections I wrote and it looks like my estimate was off. Including the prologue there are going to be 15 chapters if I counted right, and I counted twice ^^;.

Also, if anyone can guess where I got the 14 snippet titles from I'll send the first one a list of all the coming pairings and the titles that go with them. Anyone else will just be told if they're correct or not. Just a little challenge. Friends from my writing group are of course excluded since you all already KNOW. :p

Words: 627  
Chapter includes: No real warnings, mild verbal abuse given as good as it's gotten  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Pain_(*)_

Sentinel 'Acting Magnus' Prime remembers practically snarling as he finished signing the order for the announcement to be made for everyone Primus had marked and bonded to contact headquarters. It hadn't been fair in his processors, why _him_. If Primus saw fit to bond him in this farce why did it have to be to _that _mech!

It hadn't been the end of the world, but it sure had felt like it at the time.

"If you keep that expression on your face it will rust that way."

He turned a glare at Starscream. "That's not true." He contorted his faceplates a few times just in case.

The seeker snorted. "What caused such a horrid look on your face?" He folded his arms across his chassis.

"I was remembering when we were first bonded." He didn't have to say any more. Neither of them had been happy. It was only not wanting Primus' wrath brought down on him that had kept the seeker out of the stockades when he'd set ped on Cybertron with the first ship of Decepticon Primus bonded bots.

Starscream had lived up to his designation and blown out Sentinel's audio receptors no less then four times in the first orn. Yeah, it was safe to say he wasn't happy either.

The only saving grace of the situation was the seeker had quickly figured out if he talked about what he picked up from his mate through the bond Sentinel would do the same.

Their sparkbond had started out stronger then most. There was some thought that it was because of the newness of the seeker's regenerated spark. Most bots had bonds that started weak then grew to full strength with time. Bots learned to block as the strength increased. He and Starscream had started out with a mostly complete bond to begin with. Learning to block had been like getting those losers called cadets from bootcamp in line, a long constant frustration.

"Remembering what a pathetic dirtkisser you were before you ended up with my magnificence?"

"More like wondering why Primus cursed me with an overgrown ornamental kite for a bondmate."

Those who knew of the strength of their bond were almost always confused and a bit disturbed by how they treated each other.

It wasn't that they hated each other; it was just you couldn't have a bond as deep as theirs, however it came about, without understanding one another. And one thing they both understood were masks.

"So what are you working on?" Starscream leaned over his shoulder trying to read the datapad in front of Sentinel, nosey as ever.

Smacking at his mate's poking servos Sentinel leaned away. "It's a request for help from some Neutral planet called Haydon IV to deal with their recent uprising. The lower class there are unseating the nobles and they want us to deal with it." He didn't know much about the planet other then Optimus was originally from there. When he'd mentioned it to the other Prime he'd gotten a strange look on his face and just said 'Good.' He'd never understand the slagger.

Feeling the sudden pain across their bond Starscream stopped trying to grab the pad.

"Well. From what I know about the place secondhand the place can damn well burn. Now put down your work. You're home with _me_ now, you should be grateful, groundpounder."

Rolling his optics at his bondmate's ego Sentinel set the pad aside with the others he had yet to go over and finish. Having Starscream as his sparkmate was a lot like having a pet scraplet. Getting to close would end with you bitten and ripped to shreds.

Still, it was nice having someone who understood. Even if he _was_ a former fragging Con.

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Please review!


	5. Guilt

I really think they would help Cybertron flourish into a new Golden Age, or cause it to explode in a fiery ball with no survivors if these two ended up together. There would be little in-between.

In an aside, we have a winner to the challenge! Big round of applause for TinkotheWolf. ^ - ^ If you make guesses about the snippet names I'll still tell you if you're right or not, but nothing else. Sorry. At the end of the last chapter I'll post the theme for them.

Words: 558  
Chapter includes: No real warnings, mild verbal abuse given as good as it's gotten  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Guilt_(*)_

Leaning against the doorway of his mate's workshop Oil Slick watched the mech putter around.

"...intersection of atomic coordinates indicated convergent tertiary structures..."

As far as sparkmates went he'd lucked out in his own opinion. At least Wheeljack wasn't some bit brain only interested in shooting things like Scalpel's mate.

"... vector L1 norm squared."

"If you add those together it's going to explode." He was far enough back that he'd only have to worry about shrapnel, but he didn't want his mate injured. That would serve no purpose.

The other mech turned to him, flashing his finials cheerfully.

"No it won't, the base components are stable enough that chances of them exploding are negligible."

"You're failing to take into account the energon temperature and volume have to be proportionate. You've left that cube sit to the point it's cold as steel." Oil Slick should know, he'd brought the ration to him. Almost a joor ago

As soon as he'd seen it the mech had taken it and started muttering equations and digging though his chemicals, seeming to be inspired. He hadn't minded watching Wheeljack work. The mech was quite brilliant, if accident prone.

Picking up the cold cube Wheeljack took a sip, still muttering formula. Silently Oil Slick watched him down it in unthinking trust. Bots hadn't trusted Oil Slick like that for a long time, and he was fine with that.

He felt no guilt for his actions during the war. The simple fact was that bots die in battle. Autobot, Decepticon, it didn't matter. They went in knowing it could mean their lives. And he created death. It was what he was good at and he was particularly proud of Cosmic Rust, his best work.

If he tested the final product in battle what did it matter? They came there to die anyway. He was only being practical. Oil Slick didn't understand why that was so hard to understand.

When he'd told his mate this he'd been expecting a look of horror or disgust such as he usually received when a bot asked why he did what he did and he bothered to answer. Instead the racecar had looked thoughtful and nodded saying practicality was one of the reasons he'd experimented on and altered his own frame.

Wheeljack had said a simple "Don't do that anymore." and left it at that. Trusted him not to.

Just like he trusted there wasn't anything there shouldn't be in his energon.

Finishing his cube Wheeljack looked over his calculations. "Think it'll work? I'm mainly an engineer not a chemist, but when it came to me, I just had to try it out!"

Oil Slick came further into the room. "The idea is sound, though it needs further research and refining. Like this section here." He pointed a claw at a string of equations. "If you redid it with the friction coefficient of the subset amplified the result would be more concentrated without losing volume or increasing the starting energy needed."

Following his mate into the land of numbers the cyclebot acknowledged a simple truth to himself.

He didn't feel any guilt over his actions in the war. It was a war and death was his job. Now it wasn't, and he'd do what was needed to not see that trust gone and those faceplates caught in disappointment.

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I've decided just rambling about the chapters seems to bee working, so I'll be trying that. ^ _ ^ For those of you wondering, yes the formula in this came from TFP episode 21, T.M.I. . I must have rewound and re-watched every part where Bulkhead said _anything_ a few dozen times to get the exact words.

Just out of curiosity, how many of you had thought Oil Slick did something to the energon? I want to know if I succeeded. ^ - ^

Please review!


	6. Anger

I've decided that just making random comments about the chapter seems to work well, so I'll be continuing to do that.

The Weaver as Scalpel's model type thing is a result of my fic writing group. To quote one, Lala, "I think the thought process went something like... They look like spiders! Spiders weave webs! I'll bet they can weave all sorts of things! And there we have it." And it just kind of built from there.

Words: 618  
Chapter includes: No real warnings, passive aggressive vengeance?  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Anger_(*)_

An unholy shriek of rage tore the air accompanied by the sound of many pointed peds stomping down the hall. The mech had done it again! The big lump had destroyed yet another set of clothing he'd labored over!

Seething Scalpel clacked his way to where he could sense his mate was.

"You!" Pointing a sharp pincer at his sparkmate he prepared to unleash his fury.

"Oh, come on Scalpel. You're the one who insisted I wear the stuff today when I _told_ you I'd be running obstacle courses." Ironhide didn't even pretend he didn't know what had upset his mate this time, just rolling his optics.

The weaver huffed. That didn't excuse it! It was only proper that the mate of a weaver wear weaver made clothing, and this walking cannon refused to see that. He'd even made a cannon cozy, and that plebeian came back with the whole thing singed, cut, ripped and smelling of soot!

"You are an imbecile! If you can not keep ze clozing in one piece zen vhat is ze point of making zem for you!" He stamped the tip of his ped into the floor.

Ironhide vented out a sigh and scooped his irate mate into his arms trying to calm him down. The smaller bot struggled in his grip, wishing he could jab him with his ped tips.

The first time he'd done that after meeting his mate had been the last time that had worked. After a satisfying yelp of pain the mech had simply shifted into his impenetrable form. Stabbing at him had only resulted in sore ped tips. Now, through the bond the orange mech knew when he was going to try it again and changed before he could try.

Submitting himself to indignity of being held Scalpel crossed his arms, turning his helm away.

Moving the bot in his arms to get his servo on Scalpel's underside Ironhide started massaging in a soothing manner.

"I'd told you I had rough training today and what I needed to do was go out like a normal Cybertronian. I know it's colder where weavers are from, not to mention your thin points are prone to freezing, but it's not like that here."

Scalpel's helm turned so he could glare at him. "If I vere to let you go out vizout proper coverings I would be a shame as a veaver! I put in an incredible amount of vork on zat set you half-bit, and it is ruined!"

They had had this argument many times before, Scalpel needing to assert his claim more loudly then a mere paint ring and Ironhide not seeing the point of wearing metalmesh on a planet that had almost perfect weather. If nothing else Ironhide's patience had grown by leaps and bounds.

Letting out a little groan he gave in. "Fine, the next thing you make I'll keep nice and pristine, and wear often, and not let get destroyed, and all that slag. Ok?"

Jerking his head in a sharp nod Scalpel started struggling again and was set down this time. "I vill go start vork on it immediately. I vant it finished before ze Magnus does his inspection next orn." In a much happier mood the little bot walked off.

He may not be able to stab at his mate to get his revenge over his hard work being ruined, but he'd see how his sparkmate liked his nice new chest wrap done in dark pink with 'Scalpel' done in bright green and 'bondmate' in lavender. Maybe with some crystal fringe.

Plotting his vengeance on his beloved, it was all Scalpel could do not to cackle as he moved back down the hall.

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*Pictures Ironhide's browny orange, bright green, dark pink and lavender together and shudders* Be careful what promises you make to placate your lovers people. Very careful.

Please review!


	7. Bargaining

Not much to say today, the snippet really speaks for itself. Frameshifter is the term some friends and I have for certain bots in the series that have two separate frames and alts that match to them, like Shockwave in TFA and Punch in G1. As opposed to one frame that transforms several ways like Blitzwing or Springer.

Just a notification: I have a dentist check-up tomorrow, so my update will be made more around noon or 1 central time rather then the early morning I've been doing.

Words: 705  
Chapter includes: No real warnings, a little cybertronian swearing?  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Bargaining_(*)_

Long spindly claws slowly approached red plating. Mechano-centimeters, then mechano-millimeters, then-

"Keep your fragging servos off of me Shockwave."

It was amazing how a bot without a visible mouth could pout.

"Don't you think you're overreacting a tad?" He pulled his hands back anyway, coming around to his lover's front. Blue optics glared over the top of the data pad he was reading at his desk.

"Did I or did I not tell you to never pick me up and carry me around?" Cliffjumper slapped the pad down and stood up in all his irate glory.

He was so adorable when angry, not that Shockwave would say so to his face. He liked interfacing regularly, thank you very much. He'd been terrified when Primus made his announcement that his god was going to punish him in some horrible way for his transgressions. Awaking in his safehouse to Cliffjumper in his spark and on his servo had been an incredible relief.

"I still don't see what the problem is. The ground was too uneven and angled, and my stride is much longer then yours. Would you rather have slid into the rust sea while trying to drive fast enough to keep up with me? I couldn't risking letting you be hurt that way."

The mini's finger started to twitch as if he was imagining pulling a trigger. "Cut the scrap! I _know _you and that wasn't because of any care for my safety, you just wanted to pick me up!"

Shockwave shrugged. "Can you blame me for wanting my sparkmate in my arms? You've never been fond of public displays of affection, or private for that matter. Is it so wrong to want the other half of my spark in my arms for a time? No one there minded, in fact several made the fact they thought us cute apparent."

"The point," he hissed out, "of the trip to the beach was to spend time together relaxing. Not for you to scoop me up like a package. I'm a full grown mech, not a sparkling!"

The purple frameshifter gave his mate a long up and down scan. "I assure you, I know that very well." The leer blatant in his tone was enough to derail his bondmates anger for a klick.

It was long enough.

Delicately trailing his claws up Cliffjumper's arms Shockwave leaned down to nuzzle a sensor horn. "So, despite you not letting me carry you when we're alone, your main objection is that I did it in public, correct? That doesn't seem very fair."

Expression faltering, the red bot caught his scowl and restrengthened it. "What exactly are you getting at?"

Claw tips moved over shoulder armor and down his back. Bent as he was, most of the larger bot's weight was being supported by his smaller frame as it pressed down. Easily shifting his supports to carry him, Cliffjumper looked suspiciously at his mate.

"I'm well aware of your strength, my mate. You are holding my weight now, carrying me. I feel no more weak for it, though I confess my spark is starting to throb." His mate's face flushed at the frank statement. "I do not wish to treat you like a youngling, and I am quite sorry you felt that way. I was merely trying to instill this same feeling in you. If you would allow me to carry you occasionally at home, I will refrain from doing so in public."

Seeming uncertain he looked at Shockwave for a nano-klick. "...only around the house."

Pleased Shockwave started standing straight again, only to be stopped by his bonded's servos on his kibble. Blinking his optic red met blue again. "...and only if I get to carry you some times."

Blinking some more the frameshifter tilted his helm in confusion. "While it does arouse me to see you show such strength, I doubt you could carry me very far. Not for lack of ability, but simply because I am more cumbersome."

His mate sent him a heated stare. "I didn't say I would be carrying you that far."

Oh. Oh. Allowing his weight to shift forward again Shockwave happily reflected that yes, he was quite happy with Primus' choice in 'punishment'.

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I think Shockwave and his silver glossa has met his match against Cliffjumper and his willfulness.

Please review!


	8. Depression

=_= Well, I slept like scrap last night. One of my cats Shuiichi (Sushi for short) who is part Siamese kept me up to the wee hours singing the song of her people (aka yowling while carrying a sock), and then I couldn't get back to sleep. Forgive me if I take a while to respond to reviews, I'm going to take a nap to recover now that my appointment is done with. If anyone's curious yeah, I have two cavities. I get to have those filled next week. T ^ T

I turned off my brain and upped the drama for this one and I still wasn't able to write it without falling over laughing, and a swear I could _feel_ my brain melting into goo. Writing Bee was amusing, but would probably drive me insane eventually

Words: 757  
Chapter includes: No real warnings, a drama queen(bee)?  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Depression_(*)_

Bumblebee made a little groan of sadness. The world was ending, that was it, no more! Cybertron was about to crash into it's moons and burst into flames. He might as well curl into a minibot ball of despair and off-line.

It had been such a good sol too. He'd seen his mate off, gone in to headquarters for his shift, and come home after picking up the latest copy of Ninja Gladiator part X. He'd been so excited after waiting _so _long for it to arrive on Cybertron. Then, tragedy!

The TV and game console were gone!

The only thing in their place was a note not to freak out and call the enforcers.

So now he had a brand new game and no way to play it! He'd tried comm-ing his sparkmate, but the slagger was blocking him! Him!

Throwing himself on the couch he draped an arm over his face. Now what was he supposed to do, read? He'd been looking forward to this, too! A sudden sound made him perk up, recognizing it as the door opening. Bee gave Cyclonus a sad look.

"The TV! The console! They're gone! Why are they gone?" The little bot whined at his mate only to get a flat look back.

"I took them."

Bee sighed exasperatedly. "No kidding! What did you _do_ with them?"

"You will see. Come along. If we leave now we will be there in time." Bumblebee just flopped his other arm over his optics. Great, his mate had probably given them away or sold them or any number of results that meant he was without entertainment.

He moved his arms when a dark tapered finger tapped on them, draping them over the couch arm behind his helm instead.

Silently the purple mech crooked a digit gesturing for him to follow him. Grumbling and complaining the whole way Bee heaved himself up and off the couch.

"Are you at least going to tell me where we're going?"

Cyclonus ignored his mates sullen behavior. "You'll see when we get there." He transformed. "Follow me. I'll go slow enough for you to keep up."

"Hey!" Growling Bumblebee transformed down and sped after the fragging bunny helmed jet.

No appreciation at all. He might as well be mated to a engine block for all the care he received. Only a spark and a frame, no love for Bumblebee himself. Why was the universe so cruel? He had the absolute worst bondmate in the history of Cybertron, what trials Primus made him go through. A mate who would take away his greatest joy!

Sulking, Bee only had moments to keep from driving into a wall, optics on his mate and his internal griping not the road ahead of him. Landing beside his mate, Cyclonus distracted him from his internal moaning by taking his servo and pulling him along.

Startled by the servo holding, Cyclonus never saw the point in things like that, Bee didn't notice where he was being taken.

"Is the system completed?" Bumblebee looked from his mate to the shopkeeper behind the counter.

"Oh, yes sir. It was a fiddly thing, the connections being so small, but not overly hard. Would you like to look it over or just have me place it in a storage cube for transport?"

"I would like to look it over." Still pulling the minibot behind him he followed the storebot to a work room.

"Here it is, any alterations you might want we can still do. Just call me when you're done!"

Tugging his servo free Bee stepped up to one of the most beautiful sights his little yellow aft had ever seen. The old TV he'd brought from earth was sitting to the side of a first class, ultra high projection, holovid enabled, multi-option, more slag then Bee could name vidscreen. With little connection plugs in the front and side for all his earth equipment.

In front of this wonder of wonders was his game console and it's controllers, with a new addition. A controller big enough for a bot the size of a former-Decepticon's servos. Stunned speechless for once Bumblebee turned wide optics on his mate who stood impassive next to him.

"I do not see the point to such games, but as they make you happy I have found a way of playing them with you. I shall endeavor to understand."

Bee had to mute his vocalizer lest his squeal shatter the wonderful gift his perfect, glorious, incredible mate had gotten him.

Best bondmate ever!

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I might have had a bit too much fun, but I have no regrets.  
Please review!


	9. Reflection

Sorry, after yesterday I overslept. : / Still yawning. I know Inferno is supposed to be a firetruck, not a helitanker, in most transformer series. However, as he's not IN Animated I had some leeway and I ran with it as an ode to a fav almost cannon couple. ^-^

Words: 505  
Chapter includes: No real warnings, cannon soup?  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Reflection_(*)_

Waking up to find out Primus had bonded her to a Decepticon was one of the most unpleasant things Red Alert had ever been faced with. Despite being an Autobot medic, or perhaps because of it, she didn't hate Decepticons. She hated the war that came with them, and she didn't see how this would settle anything.

Being a medic and saving lives was something she'd wanted to do since she was a femmeling. She'd been sick back then, sick in her processor. A severe glitch had made her see betrayal and fear everywhere. Paranoia was her life in her earliest memories. Then her creators brought her to the medics. They had been the ones to see her, to heal her. She'd wanted to do the same for others.

In the war she just patched up one bot after the other, only to send them out again. After the loss of her arm she decided on the interlink to be a more efficient medic as opposed to replacing it.

All she'd seen of Decepticon's led her think thing this would end in nothing but pain.

When Inferno had stepped off the ship she didn't really know what she'd expected from the helitanker. A sneer, maybe the hostility she saw in the faces of several others. Red Alert certainly had not been expecting those red optics to lock on to her own and a large grin to break open over his face.

He was a friendly mech, coming over to her immediately. By passing the hand she held out he'd swept her into an exuberant hug.

Taking him back to her place she'd been unsure how to treat him in return. Walking lightly around him for orn, some of the old fears eating at her mind.

Over time he'd proven himself just as he'd seemed. He talked of being a Decepticon, and how he'd never even left New Kaon before and wasn't this amazing! He'd wanted to join the fire rescue division so he could get back to his old job. Talking for hours about old rescues, and the feeling he'd gotten when he knew he'd managed to save a life.

She'd understood.

With familiarity they grew closer. They were happy, and she'd thrilled at the warmth of his spark through the bond. Which brought them here.

The room was quiet, the sound of the monitoring equipment loud in the silence. Turning her helm on the pillow she smiled at her mate. When he slowly stepped closer she reached out and ran a soothing servo along the edge of one of his blades where they hung along his back.

Neither of them spoke a word, not wanting to break the silence of the hospital room.

Hesitant in a way she'd rarely seen from him he moved even closer, leaning over her reclining frame.

It was funny how his servo shook when he finally got up the courage to hold out his hand and lay it across the cheekplate of the little life they'd created together.

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The earliest chapter disclaimers warned about my twisted sense of humor, remember? ^ - ^ I have no explanation for this other then I have a Universe Inferno and Red Alert set enacting the 'out of the fire' scene from G1 and two of their G1 figure playing parent to Kreon Red Alert on my TV stand.

Please review!


	10. Loneliness

Two not very well known bots this time. If you don't know who these two bots are I'd recommend google-ing a youtube vid of some of their scenes. Bonus points if you find the scene that had me trying to for half an hour to work a "He's close. REAL close" joke in here some how. I couldn't manage it. -_-; My mind kept going to, "Objects in mirror are closer then they appear." as it's best result. :P

Words: 659  
Chapter includes: No real warnings  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Loneliness_(*)_

As a frameshifter in the Autobot ranks Punch was used to keeping to himself. Not that he didn't interact or talk with the bots around him, but speaking to them and letting himself get close were two very different things.

As Punch he'd known that being a frameshifter set him apart, even ignoring the secrets he had to keep as a spy. Then there were the actions he'd taken in the name of _both_ sides. Who would want to be around a bot that got close to others only to stab them in the backplates? Who would want to be around a bot that shot at his own side?

Any friend he made as Counterpunch was one he might be called on to kill one day, and one he'd be actively betraying just by being his real self. Any friend he made as Punch was one he'd have to leave behind most of the time and have a large chance of facing down the sights of a rifle. Becoming romanticly involved had the same problems.

All these thoughts and more ran through his mind as he looked down at his servo at the band glowing up at him. At the two names glowing at him.

He knew Dealer, though not well. The other Autobot was someone he only peripherally knew, and only because he was a special ops groupie. He'd been investigated by the Head of Intelligence himself and come up clear, he was just an ornamental fanstalker. The truck bot hung around the ops building hitting on any mech that came in or out, giving his contact information. He'd even accidentally hit on a janitor bot once. It'd been the talk of the building for orns.

Counterpunch's faceplates twisted in disgust to be Primus bound to a mech that saw what he did as glamorous.

Doubledealer was another mech he knew, if only vaguely. A well known Decepticon spy, the missile platform was known to be in the most inconvenient places at the worst possible moments. Punch respected him, even if he'd like him to die in a fire.

Two very different mechs, and he was now bound to the both of them. To the point he could feel both of them in his spa-. Counterpunch frowned. There was only one presence in his spark other then his own.

Suspicious and needing to know the jet checked that his barrack room was locked before he dug out the small portable console he had for emergencies.

Patching though and bouncing his signal, he thanked Primus your average Decepticon had gooey energon for processors. Independent thinking was not encouraged for most of the rank and file, and if you don't use it you lose it. It made it easier to hack in and hide his signal.

He'd never contacted this number before, but like any decent ops member he'd hung on to the information just in case it turned useful. The mech was thankful for that now.

The other end of the connection opened and he took a good look at the other blue bot that blinked blearily at him, rubbing his chestplates absently.

"Wha?"

"Hello, Decepticon." The minute tensing before Dealer started his denials was all he needed to confirm it and he shifted to his car bot configuration.

Speaking into the sudden silence he made optic contact. "I am your Primus selected bondmate. I hope we can learn to get along." There was a few more moments of silence before the sounds of transformation and the optics meeting were once again blue and red and not two sets of blue.

Each lost in their own thoughts about this, Punch reflected that whatever may come, he wasn't alone now. And... He took a good look at the one his spark was now linked to, who was as deep in this slag as he was. Primus could have chosen worse for him.

This one knew what it was like.

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I'm a big fan of the Special Operations members from G1, and I have to admit to spending more time then is probably healthy imagining what that kind of life must be like for them. This is sort of a send up to those bots. Even Jazz can't smile all the time, Mirage was suspected of betrayal no matter how loyal he was, and people keep forgetting Bee was an Ops bots too.

Please review!


	11. The Upward Turn

Again, no real comments, though I would like to mention the next few updates through to Monday might or might not be at my usual time. I'm going to visit my Dad on Saturday and won't be back till said mid-Monday morning. I'll be posting while there, but am not sure when I'll have the free time.

Words: 742  
Chapter includes: No real warnings  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_The Upward Turn_(*)_

Almost as soon as Hook saw the name "Ultra" on his servo and felt him in his spark he was sneaking out of the medical wing and onto a small ship. He hadn't been stupid enough to think that even Primus could keep some bright Decepticon from thinking taking him out to get the Magnus would be a brilliant idea.

Getting the ship off New Kaon had been problematic, but not too hard. By then word had spread, to varying reactions, about Primus' actions. He had merely taken advantage of the distraction to get away.

Hook was more concerned with keeping his shiny green skidplate in one piece.

It had taken more than one sol to reach Autobot space territory, luckily he'd thought to shove a few cubes into his subspace. He'd left almost everything else behind, fleeing as fast as possible.

He was expecting threats and hostility when he made contact with the first patrol ship he'd seen. He hadn't been disappointed.

He had also been hoping the bonds were as big a gossip on Cybertron as they had been on New Kaon. Fortunately he'd been right again, and after learning his designation and communicating back to headquarters they'd let him, under heavy guard, dock his ship and be brought back to Cyberton.

The current Acting Magnus insisted he wear stasis cuffs before he'd be allowed on planet. He'd done as required without complaint, but made a note that the first time he saw another medic he'd 'innocently' inquire after the bot's health and maintenance. If he was anything like most bots he'd been avoiding his physical and anti-virus updates; a reminder should be all it would take to bring the medic's wrath down on him.

They hadn't known what to do with him at that point. As the Magnus' bonded he was to be afforded certain courtesies, as an enemy soldier he belonged in the brig.

Hook had settled the issue by asking to see his mate. After all if the mech died so did he, and he wasn't ready to die yet. Arguments that he could be a threat were shut down by pointing out Primus would hardly bond him to the Magnus if he would be willing to kill him, not to mention if he was going to do so he wouldn't have come all the way here, he'd have stayed home and done it.

The next orn was a blur of tests, examinations, fabrications, and repairs. Ultra Magnus was going to live a very long time if he had anything to say about it and he was going to do this right.

It was almost two orns in before the swarm of medics decided to take the Magnus out of stasis, and Hook stood at the back of the room while they woke him up. Even so, when the truck bot on-lined his optics they met his own.

Shifting on his peds the mech looked away, standing in silence while the other medics made the final checks. And then they were gone and it was only the two of them.

Stepping away from the wall he'd been propped against Hook went over to his mate, as odd as it felt for him to call him that. "I'm Hook, Decepticon medic, but I'd guess you know that." What do you say to a bot that your god bonded you to? Other than on the battlefield and in his internals he didn't know the first thing about the mech before him.

"Yes, I know that. I have had some time to explore our bond while in stasis." The larger mech glanced at the fold out berth the crane bot had been recharging on in the corner. "If you would prefer, I can have you set up in a guest room at the Magnus manor. You would likely recharge better there."

Well, that was a relief. He'd been half afraid the mech would insist he slept in his bonded's room right away. "I'll leave my things there but recharge here. Staying nearby strengthens your spark, making recovery faster, Ultra Magnus."

The blue and white Autobot gave his sparkmate a small smile."Please, just call me Ultra. Now then, I know your name and place in the army. Why don't you tell me about yourself? Hobbies and such."

Relaxing into a visiting chair Hook started talking. It looked like this wouldn't be as bad as all that at all.

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Please review!


	12. Reconstruction

Closing in on the finish line, only three more parts to go after this one. The accent in this was more annoying to write then Kup and Scrapel's combined even if it was just as consistent. I _like_ Blitzwing. "Mayday, mayday _lets all dance around_ _the maypole!"_ *grins*

Words: 557  
Chapter includes: No real warnings  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Reconstruction_(*)_

Straightening his cloak and checking that he was still polished to perfection Alpha Trion studied his reflection in the mirror one last time. Deciding he was acceptable he stepped out of the washracks and into the hall with his bondmate.

Blitzwing nodded stiffly, "I appreciate you doing zis for me. I know zat you had to reschedule several zings to free zis sol."

Alpha gave him an easy shrug. It hadn't been as hard as his mate was making it sound, it was mostly paperwork and a few one-on-one meetings. "I wanted to indulge you. I have taken far too few free days this vorn anyway."

Nodding again the triple changer started walking down the hallway, leaving him to fall in step beside him. Glancing at Icy out of the corner of his optic he contemplated the mech. While he himself had rarely considered the idea of bonding he had accepted their Creator's decision fairly quickly.

From all counts Blitzwing had not. Ignoring the ruckus he'd caused on Earth when he'd turned into Hothead and tried to blow up the transport ship that was to take all the Earth bots back to Cybertron, no matter the faction, he'd then spent several sols destroying their house. Icy and Random had come out rarely, and it was almost half an orn before he had his first decent conversation with the mech.

He'd mostly hidden in his office during that time.

"Are you going to be able to make it to your farm as you had planned tomorrow?" Upon finding out about his bonded's love of fluffsheep Alpha Trion had scheduled lessons in the care and maintenance of the small metallic creatures along side classes on running a business like a farm. Since its establishment it had not only given Blitzwing something to do, but sparkling schools clamored for sol trips to see the sheep. It had been good for the purple and gray mech.

The two bots entered the dining room which was set with plates of energon goodies, ore crunchies and lattice works made of edible crystal so they absorbed the sweetened energon of the small dishes they were in. Both the treats and the energon in the pitcher were made at the World's End and brought over. The tea set was their own.

Smiling at his mate Alpha gestured to the table. "Well, shall we?"

"We shall- _dance up and down ze halls! What a lovely tea party!_" Random started to cackle spinning him around in his arms a few times before setting him down and going over to pour the energon into the pot.

Re-smoothing his cloak, the racecar smiled at Blitzwing as he cheerfully started setting things where he wanted them to be. Taking his own place at the table the mech contemplated his cube. The whole set had been specially made by a local artisan who did unique glass and ceramic pieces.

All his works were made from broken and shattered things he bought or were donated. Then he patiently fit the edges of different cubes and such together, melting the seams, the cracks still visible. Making something new, yet unique. It would be more fragile then the original, yet something beautiful regardless. Or maybe because of it.

At his sparkmate's impatient sound he handed over the cube and snagged himself a goodie.

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I originally saw the little bit about the glass craftsmen in a Starwars book years ago, one of the ones with a teen-age Obi-wan just starting being Padawan under Qui-gon. I always liked it. ^ - ^

Please review!


	13. Working Though

This one was a real challenge. At first I tried to do Percy's voice straight out. That didn't go too well. I ended up having to write what I wanted to say separately then 'translate' it into Perceptor speak. -_-; That actually went a lot faster.

Words: 633  
Chapter includes: No real warnings other then _really_ big words. Those with smaller vocabularies might want to open Google dictionary/thesaurus or something unless they're good at guessing from context clues.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

* * *

_(*)_Working Though_(*)_

Studying the board of equations running along the wall Perceptor acknowledged that perhaps he'd been embroiled in the particulars of the current scientific enigma for too long. Conceivably, taking a sabbatical from the rigors of computation would be perspicacious of his accepted conundrum.

Setting down his stylus in the provided tray augmenting the writing surface he traversed over to where his sparkmate was engrossed within his own ciphering.

Hm. Equivalent to the flattening of the oblate spheroid to the Nth power... This had merit towards application in his own work. Reaching past Skyfire's hip joint Perceptor tapped a scattering of keys to bring up the shuttle bot's existent work on one of the flanking monitors.

The larger mech glanced down and smiled at him before returning to his labors. Taking an instant to examine his sparkmate he experienced a gratified sensation that Primus had selected this mech for his sparkbonded. The Creator forbid he end up with a bot comparable to that mech Spittor who was incompetent enough to be inadequate at stringing a terabyte of data together coherently

In addition to a pleasing form Skyfire had an exceptional processor. He had lab training as well, having been an assistant in the research centers of New Kaon. There was a negligible issue upon their meeting where the technical research truck had been in a quandary as to how to react and interact with his bonded. His bondmate had seemed similarly flummoxed.

Unusually, the explanation of his having deleted most of his social subroutines had eased their interactions. Apparently Skyfire had theorized from his disassociative behavior that there was an aversion on his part. Telling him he was actually quite enticing and titillating from a frame and mind standpoint resulted in a curious positive reaction and the mech spending more time in the Head of the Ministry of Science's personal lab.

Multitudinous Cybertronians eschewed his presence once they found out what he'd done to his programming, they did not purposely seek him out. He certainly could have done worse than a proficient partner in the laboratory and the berthroom who was not repulsed by that which he was.

Coming to the determination that yes, the formulas were pertinent he percussed on Skyfire's leg to get his attention. However, before he could ask if the internal energy of isolated e remained constant, or if there was fluctuation, his integrated chronometer made a small ping to him.

Oh, time for one of his most enjoyed subsets of the sol.

Making note of the question in his processor in the proper sector of his memory banks, he deviated to a cosseting motion till the shuttle looked down at him. Caressing the seams of his hip plating, Perceptor approximated a leer he'd seen exchanged between Wheeljack and his own mate.

"It is currently the time of the sol which we have set aside for conjugal relations. You have the appearance of being quite alluring tonight. I am contemplating interfacing with you with much anticipation."

Looking amused his sparkmate bent down and picked him up, perching the smaller bot in a seated position on his arm.

"Is it already that time? I must have been more absorbed than I thought." Nuzzling his nasal ridge into Perceptor's he stole a kiss and started ambulating them to their berthroom. "Any special requests tonight?"

The red science bot made a hm-ing modulation and arched in to sample a vent with his glossa. "Talk science to me."

Those same vents faltered as his paramour did as directed. "If the trisector of the polygon is an integral subset, and e and 3 divided by the square root of the propulsion factor equals the mass times diffusion rate..."

He allowed his frame to quiver. Yes, most definitively his dearest interval of the sol.

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All I can say about choosing Skyfire is wings automatically exclude you from being an Autobot in TFA, and there was a fic I was talking about with some friends a while ago. I can't even remember the name of it, but I have yet to get the line about space telescopes and our jokes about research satellites out of my head. I basically went "Why not?"

Please review!


	14. Acceptance

Yeah, Bludgeon is a little OOC here. My characterization of him was largely shaped by Tash and Zira's portrayal of him, and frankly there's just something so amusing about a bot that looks like him being a timid librarian. Again, since this fic was mainly written to entertain my friends and myself while I had writers block I decided to just keep it after I'd done more research into his background and personality. I kept a lot of his background, just mostly changed the personality part.

Words: 672  
Chapter includes: No real warnings, an OOC character if you look at his comic portrayal.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Acceptance_(*)_

Sitting in his chair on the transport ship Bludgeon shook in his armor. He was on his way to meet his sparkbonded for the first time. Most of the others he knew that Primus had chosen had been able to at least talk to their bondeds, but as a datapad librarian the tank bot wasn't high ranking enough the have easy access to a console powerful enough to reach Cybertron.

Most of the public ones had code based blocks, and any ones that didn't were swamped after permission was given to contact mates. Not just Primus chosen were clogging the works, but since the war was more or less being called over bots, that had spouses in special operations or the Autobot brig were there too. He would have been able to get a turn eventually, however by lottery he'd been picked to be on the first ship after the decision sent to the Cybertronian homeworld.

Bludgeon had looked up 'First Aid' in the databanks, but the mech didn't have a file. The bond was too weak to even know what he looked like. What was _he_ like? Was he some blaster nut? A front line fighter? Some big hulking thing with cannons? His designation wasn't sure thing that he wasn't, it could mean something like the bots he met would _need_ first aid. Lots of mech had names that were counter to how they actually were; just look at him.

With a name like Bludgeon you knew his creators had expected great things from him. Instead he was small for both a tank bot and a Decepticon. He preferred being in the stacks with his datapads over fighting. Not to say he didn't train, he found his metallikato training and swordsmechship a great joy. However, put him in front of another bot and tell him to fight to kill and he seized.

He wondered if his mate would see him as the failure most of his own side had. The tank mech knew if he'd been bonded to another Decepticon he'd have been more of a shame then anything else. Fierce looking and skilled, but useless in a battle. Most Decepticons preferred proper warriors that had won their respect for berthpartners, at least most of the ones he knew did.

To get his mind off the likelihood of his mate just putting up with him and he being left to a loveless sparkbond the tricolored mech started thinking about what he'd _like_ him to be like.

Patient and kind would be nice with a good processor. First Aid's spark felt soothing and calm, was he the same way? Maybe they could read together if he was. He'd like to get a job in a library again. His looks would probably scare the sparklings though. Autobot sparklings were probably not used to the amount of points on Decepticon frames, and datapad facilities almost always had sparklings around. Maybe at a university, hospital or something.

He'd already resigned himself to likely being shorter or the same size as his mate, he was only the size of your average Autobot, but he hoped the mech wouldn't be _too_ big if bigger then him. It was stupid but he liked snuggling after interfacing.

The ship went into it's landing sequence and touched down. Bludgeon's claws dug gouges into the armrests before he let go and started disembarking with the others, former Commander Starscream shoving his way to the front. Bludgeon was hanging to the back, easily shadowed by the frames around him, when the crowd parted for a moment revealing the waiting Autobots.

There he was.

Red optics met the blue visor and for the first time Bludgeon pushed other Decepticons aside, wanting to reach him.

Finally facing one another they looked at each other in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"I'm Bludgeon, librarian."

"I'm First Aid, medic."

When the smaller red and white retracted his face mask and smiled at him he smiled back, and he knew. He just knew.

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Last chapter goes up tomorrow! I'll post in the end notes for those who still haven't figured out the chapter name theme. Most of you should have by now, but you never know.

Please review!


	15. Hope

I had written out a long Author Note but the fragging thing was deleted. I'll try to get as much as I remember up here. Please forgive me if I miss something.

Several unsigned reviews mentioned Optimus and him not being in here. I set a few challenges for myself when I wrote this and one was not having Optimus as a main or side character. If there had been some way to message you I would have told you sooner. As much as I love him it would be just too easy and he is used so often. If you want a fic with Optimus in it you could try my Worst Birthday fic, but I just wanted to try something different.

Concerning the other bots mentioned, If I wanted to stick to the theme I could only do so many parts and that meant only so many couples. Some were bound to be left out, especially since I wanted to largely focus more on less used couples with a few faves thrown in here and there. I, again, wanted to try something new.

For those that would like to know I'm going to load it up on y-gallery, Devient Art, and Adult Fanfiction over the next few days probably taking a day or two break in between till it's all completed. It will be listed as one long chapter at the first two or chaptered at the last. However you prefer.

Words: 836  
Chapter includes: No real warnings, an OOC character if you look at his comic portrayal.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, but if I ask really pretty like do you think they'd let me lick G1 Red Alert?

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_(*)_Hope_(*)_

Realigning his joints with a series of short, harsh screeches Ratchet entered his house after an overnight shift at the hospital. Absently picking up the canister of joint lubricant his mate had left out for him he applied it while moving to the kitchenette attached by a low counter to the small dining room.

There was a full kitchen in the place, but they didn't use it unless there was company. Ratchet preferred the companionship while he 'cooked' when the chef didn't make something. Really it was more just warming what he got from the dispenser

Shuffling around to do just that he warmed something to eat before he headed to recharge. Damn Patch for getting his piston headed self down with a virus. He liked spending time with his family thank you very much. The last half orn he'd only seen them in the early joors.

Finishing his energon and programming the dispenser for his mate and sparklings' preferred energon blends his optics shot up and over to the small form in the doorway.

"What are you doing up?" Windshear was being punished. The mechling had stolen several of Ratchet's wrenches then flown over a group of bullies at his school, dropping his payload from his cargo bay. The school had put him on a three sol suspension for it and the medic completely agreed. His son should have known better than to steal his tools.

Anyway, he should have still been in berth for several breems; he was going with Megatron to the Cybertronian Headquarters since there was no point in trying to find a sitter on such short notice and for such a short time. Usually it took one of them going into his room and forcing him out of recharge.

The little mech came over and sat at the counter, planting his elbows on the metal and his chin on his tiny fists.

"Papa Ratchet, do you love papa Megatron?"

What in the pit? What made his sparkling want to know that? Sparing several klicks of suspicion at those bullies his son had tussled with, along with a few dark thoughts, Ratchet tried to think how to answer.

His reflexive reaction was to say Windshear didn't need to worry about things like that. To say he should just focus on breakfast, and leave it at that, but... he honestly hadn't asked himself that for a long time. It hadn't mattered.

Back when Primus had first bonded him to Megatron the first thing he'd done was comm the bot and tell him that he better start peace negotiations with the Autobots right now or he'd offline his own spark, taking the other mech with him, and hopefully his next in-line would be more cooperative.

The Decepticon leader had felt he was serious too, and bargained for co-leadership of Ultra Magnus' position, authorization for Decepticons to come and go on planet like any other Cybertronian and amnesty for any ordered action in the war for both sides. The last had taken some doing, but eventually passed.

After that it was settling in as the spouse of said co-leader.

Megatron had been forced to develop the ability to snatch thrown wrenches out of the air. Prowl had even complimented his skill. And twice his size or not, when Ratchet wanted to speak face plate to face plate with him he'd also learned the red and white wasn't above literally climbing the mech.

They'd lived together for vorns, fought, made-up, and yes, interfaced. How else would they have sparklings like the little ball of trouble in front of him and the ones still asleep upstairs? However... love? Ratchet thought about how he'd cursed out Patch for making him cut into family time; to the lubricant Megatron put out knowing he'd need it; to his programming the dispenser so his family could get their cubes that much faster, even though he'd have been in recharge by the time they got up.

To that he had been looking forward to curling up in the berth with his mate, even if only for a few breems before the other bot woke.

It wasn't passionate and all consuming, more like a rust infection that snuck up without him knowing, but...

Refocusing his optics on his sparkling Ratchet noticed Megatron standing leaning against the doorway, watching him. Suddenly Ratchet knew both why their sparkling was awake, and who put him up to asking that question. Making note to chew the slagger a new intake he made optic contact with his mate over their sparkling's head.

"You want to know if I love your papa? Yeah, I suppose I do. Primus may have put us together, but now I do."

It may not have been the kind of thing you wrote odes to, and it was a little worse for wear and growth, singed around the edges, but as Ratchet walked around the counter towards his mate, patting Windshear's helm as he passed, he admitted it to himself

He loved him.

* * *

For those that haven't figured it out, the theme was the stages of grief and recovery.

Please review!


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